The three movies that formed Robin Williams’ triptych of evil: “Still there, still among filth”
In the early 2000s, the comedic force of nature, Robin Williams‘ life took a seriously dark turn that saw him spending his days researching serial killers like Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy, just so he could nail down their detached, matter-of-fact speech patterns.
He wanted to alter his career path after too many years of making laughathons that critics and audiences had grown weary of. “I’ve been looking for challenges, roles that really turned me on,” he told Film Threat in 2001, “Too many of my movies were similar; you have to exercise as an actor, or you go flabby”.
After revolutionising his career with 1997’s Good Will Hunting, which proved to the world that his dramatic chops were as finely honed as ever, Williams began seeking other avenues to stretch himself. By the turn of the millennium, while he had dealt with sordid subjects, he had never played an out-and-out villain who legitimately frightened audiences. So, he embarked upon what he later dubbed his ‘triptych of evil’: three movies all released in 2002, that brought out just how unsettling he could be onscreen.
First up to bat (although not the first released) was Mark Romanek’s One Hour Photo, a chilly psychological thriller that cast Williams as the quiet, bleached-blonde photo technician Sy Parrish who develops a worrying obsession with a family whose photos he has developed for years. Over the course of the film, this unhealthy fixation builds in intensity until the audience’s nerves are shredded, wondering if Parrish will cross the line into murderous territory.
Interestingly, despite Williams’ insistence on such roles, his agent Romanek still thought he “might’ve been joking” about wanting to play Parrish. Far from it, the actor saw it as the perfect opportunity to invert everything audiences had come to expect from him: no jokes, no rapid-fire delivery, no manic energy, “I got to be this small, bland, nondescript man, you know?” he reasoned, “There’s no Robin Williams”.
The second of his unofficial trilogy (and undoubtedly the least acclaimed) was Death to Smoochy, a scabrous look at the sleazy underbelly of the entertainment business directed by Danny DeVito, which found him playing a despicable, drunken children’s TV host who swears revenge on the young up-and-comer being groomed to replace him. He had a great time with it too, this time retaining some of his comedic chops, but infusing them with true ugliness, grinningly noting, “It was kind of a nasty satirical character, which I loved”.
For many fans, the third of the trilogy may have been the best, and it was the one that encouraged him to dive deep into the frightening world of real-life serial killers. In Christopher Nolan’s Insomnia, Williams played horror writer Walter Finch, a man who murders one of his fans, and when he seemingly gets away with it, begins to develop a taste for evil. “Most bad guys don’t think they’re bad, but these characters I’m playing, especially Walter, they know they’re bad,” Williams said, highlighting the truly fascinating kernel of truth at Finch’s heart, “Walter writes books on it; it’s a game to him”.
To master Finch’s voice, which he noted was similar to the “same quiet voice I use when I’m doing drama”, he watched hours of interviews with sadistic serial offenders like Dahmer and Bundy. “Obviously, I’m not a fan of these guys, but I watched just to try and get the conversational tone down,” Williams revealed, “Dahmer was so calm when he spoke, which I found really creepy.”
Indeed, this taught the actor that he didn’t need to rant and rave to play a killer, because that’s actually less scary than the reality of a murderer talking “real nice and quiet”.
In 2014, not long before he’d shuffle off the mortal coil, he told GQ that he remained very proud of his evil trilogy, smiling, “It’s just nice to be in the pantheon”, perhaps imagining himself lining up against other iconic screen villains. “I don’t know where I sit in the food chain, but it was just an interesting group to be part of: the offensive fraternity. It’s like saying, ‘Still there. Still among filth’,” he had offered, humble as always.
